Running with My Muse
“I was born on the prairies where the
wind blew free and there was nothing
to break the light of the sun.”
~ Geronimo
Story and Photos by Rachael Waller
I
was asked to write about
horses for this article. I fig-
ured it would be easy. I was
wrong. Each time I sat down to
write, all the stories of all my
experiences just muddled to -
gether. I then realized, “How does
one write about their muse?” I
realized I can’t. I photograph my
muse – because my muse is all
that is the world of equus.
I feel this inspiration in the
wind and the air, sometimes by
smell. It is tactile. It is warm,
windy, misty, foggy. It is the
smell of fresh sage in the morn-
ing as the sun hits it. It is my
face buried in a horse’s mane as
I give it a hug. It is the many
voices and ways horses com-
municate. It is the observation
of horses in their environment,
an environment they often
share with interesting charac-
ters.
For 12 years, I have devot-
ed my photography to horses in
need. I have stood in the tall
yarrow and sage in the Carson
National Forest deep in the
Jicarillas of New Mexico as a
wild band passed me by. I will
never forget the rush as the wild
horses thundered past me or
the time I stood on 76,000
acres as two stallions battled for
24
territory. The sound of their
battle carried for miles through
the canyons and trees where
others were hiding and watch-
ing.
All have since been gathered
up by the BLM, and on my last
visit, all I could feel were the
ghosts. I used to say “when I lay
my head down on the pillow at
night it is nice to know wild
horses still run free.” Now I
can’t say that, for wild horses
are threatened. Someday, I fear,
they won’t be running free any-
more, and I will be left without
my muse.
My muse appears in
moments, whether I am down
in the mud with my horses
while they roll or doctoring a
sick horse or hearing a rescued
horse finally nicker as I come to
feed. She appears the first time
I touch a wild horse or one who
had been abused; or when I
hike with my herd in the snow,
rain or fog or just sit with them
as they graze. This muse – the
essence of equus.
I have had a lot of turbu-
lence in my life, and if it
weren’t for the healing power of
horses, I would have been lost
long ago. They humble us all –
just their strength and power is
Top left: Firelight Herd – Six of my wild and domestic kids
having fun on the ranch. Top right: Rainy Days and Mondays
– My husband’s beautiful stallion in the barn on a rainy,
moody day. Middle: Canon – Rescued from starvation this
three-strikes mustang calls my ranch home. I met her in
California at Lifesavers Wild Horse rescue when she was
saved from the notorious Nebraska 300 case. Bottom:
Cover Girl – A foundation bred PMU survivor (PMU – preg-
nant mare urine aka Premarin, Prempro) hormone replace-
ment drug that uses pregnant mare urine in the pill. The foals
become a byproduct: fillies have a 50 percent chance of liv-
ing, colts only 20 precent. I rescued Cover Girl when she
was a few months old. She is one of the most stunning hors-
es I have ever owned, and she knows it.
awe-inspiring – but when they
balance that with kindness and
affection, it is truly a special
feeling to be allowed in to their
world.
I was once told by a friend,
“You are fearless through your
lens.” I realized she was right.
There are obstacles to getting
the shots I want. I am always
up close and personal with my
subjects, often touching them
Cenizo
First Quarter 2012
to feel their movement, since
my eyesight is limited while
looking through the lens.
Wild and domestic rescued
horses give us something to
believe in. They show us hope,
determination, survival, fear,
strength, trust, love and the
power of kindness. I have
engaged in many conversations
with horses from various places
and journeys; I am always
grateful to be a part of their
lives, for without horses, I am
not sure where my life would
have ended up. They are true
healers, if given the chance. I
must listen and watch to really
feel what they want to express.
When I am photographing
horses, they will often show me
their souls in the most unex-
pected moments. It may be as
they turn back to look or gaze
into the distance or the moment
they follow me. I see their souls
and always try to capture and
share that with the world.
Among many of the hors-
es who have joined this journey
with me are the Presidio
slaughter-bound horses that
were seized via the Presidio
County sheriff ’s department in
August of this year. It took the
help of many people in our
community to move the horses
from Marfa to my barn, and
their upkeep and maintenance
is a daily volunteer effort. This
was the largest group rescue I
have personally done, and,
while it is not an easy job deal-
ing with skinny horses, illnesses
and a slurry of other things, it is
continued on page 27